Enough For Now
by FuyuSarah
Summary: In which Marinette feels longing, fights it, and is only partially successful. (Pre-reveal. For Marichat Week Day 1: Secret Dating.)
**Note** : There are time jumps, and characters have to be 18 at the end of this, to be consistent with driving laws. Originally posted on my tumblr (sarahcada) on March 7, 2016.

* * *

"Hey, Marinette, can we call this a date?"

She looks up from her needlework to where Chat Noir is reading her history book at her feet. Despite the potentially sensitive question, he looks awfully casual and relaxed. She purses her lips in consideration.

"What constitutes a date, exactly?"

"Hm…I'd say it's two people who spend time together to see if they like each other."

"Well, we _are_ spending time together."

"And I _do_ like you."

"And I like you."

"Does this count as a date, then?"

It's not the kind of date that Marinette really wants, but—with him being a superhero, and with her superhero self insisting he keep his identity a secret, which convinced him to keep his mask on when in front of his supposedly civilian girlfriend—it will have to be enough, for now.

"Yeah. Yeah, it does."

* * *

"Princess, let's go on a date."

"Isn't this already a date?"

"No, I mean, let's go outside! I'll take you on a run."

She almost quips that he doesn't have to _take_ her—she can run perfectly well, thanks very much—but remembers at the last split-second that she's not Ladybug right now.

It's Ladybug who can do exhilarating runs, flips, and leaps over rooftops. It's Ladybug who smirks in challenge when Chat Noir falls into step beside her, racing him across Paris.

But it's Marinette who can hold onto his shoulders as he vaults from building to building. It's Marinette who can bury her nose in his hair and feel his unrestrained laughter against her ribcage.

Being Marinette is enough, for now.

* * *

The last time Ladybug saw Paris like this while balanced on her partner's knee, they'd needed to be a thousand feet in the air to find an akuma, she'd had her suit to protect her from the wind, and she'd had her bandalore on her hip.

This time, it's Marinette on a date with her boyfriend, and it's Chat Noir's kiss that's keeping her warm. She feels a little naked to not have her bandalore on hand, though.

But, she also knows that he'll never let her fall, and that's more than enough.

* * *

The boy behind the mask takes her on a date in the city. Sort of.

She follows the route that he'd prepared, dutifully listening to his playlist of music and commentary and puns, as his instructions had indicated. She resists looking at the faces in the crowd around her, because he's _there_ , unmasked, spending the afternoon with her, somehow.

Later, when Chat Noir asks her how it was, she says that it was nice, and shares with him all the things she'd have told him if he had been there with her.

It's the closest thing they've had to an actual, normal date. She tells herself that it's enough.

(It's not.)

* * *

"Chat Noir," she calls, standing up from her lounge the moment she hears the soft thump of his landing. "I challenge you!"

"Okay!" he promptly answers, peering down at her from her loft. "What are we playing? Because if it's Ultimate Mega Strike 3 again, I'll have you know: I'm ready to defend my hard-earned title!"

Marinette falters, her nervousness about this whole stupid, stupid, _stupid_ plan having made her momentarily forget that her boyfriend is a gaming dork.

"I— No. I wasn't— I wasn't dating about game— I mean: gaming about talk— I mean! Talking about gaming!"

He raises an eyebrow at her. She clenches her fists so she wouldn't bury her face in her hands.

 _Foolish, impulsive, half-baked—!_

"A date," she tries again. "I challenge you to plan a date. Outside. Without your baton. Or your mask. While still keeping your secret identity intact. But we should be _together_."

He doesn't answer at once, and they stare at each other across her room.

If he refuses, Marinette will have to be okay with it. She'd tried, and that will have to be enough, for now.

He grins. "Challenge accepted."

* * *

She never thought that a scooter, even if it's a Peugeot, would evoke a reaction from her that a muscle motorbike or a sleek luxury car would.

Well, to be honest, it's not the scooter that she's ogling.

She's used to seeing Chat Noir in the black material of his suit that looks something like leather. She shouldn't be affected by this. But she is.

She didn't fall for him because of his looks, but they certainly never, ever hurt. Especially now. Most _especially_ now.

He's casually leaning on the black scooter, with a helmet on one knee and another in his hands. He looks positively _rakish_ in his leather jacket, dark denim jeans, and that pair of opaque, wide shades that serve as replacement for his mask. His hair is messy and ruffled, like usual, but had it always been this dazzling? Maybe it's the absence of his cat ears…

He gives her a simple grin and offers her a helmet. She reminds herself to breathe.

They spend the afternoon riding the scooter all over the city, and Marinette relishes being able to talk with him and put her arms around him during a date while actually being on ground level. He keeps his shades on the whole time. Luckily, it's sunny out, so it makes sense.

Marinette can't help missing the glint of his cat eyes, though.

But it's for safety. Chat Noir's safety. Marinette's. The city's.

That's reason enough, and Marinette pushes her wishful thinking aside.

* * *

They end the afternoon watching the sunset from the terrace on Montparnasse Tower. The skies are already bleeding orange when she speaks into their comfortable silence.

"Well, this'll be awkward," she finds herself saying. "It'll be dark soon and you'll still be wearing those sunglasses."

He chuckles. "Let people think I'm blind, then."

How very like him to be willingly prepared to receive all the bad luck.

She nods, and then her mouth moves again. "This is a really nice sunset. You're kind of missing it through your—"

"Do you want me to remove them?"

She looks at him, wide-eyed. He seems to be looking at her, too, but with the dark shades in question over his eyes, she really can't tell.

Does she want him to remove them? Yes. Yes she does.

Should she want him to remove them? No. No she shouldn't.

"I'm—" she stammers, "I just… W—Well, this is our first sunset together. Without your…um… _other_ eyewear, I mean. I just thought— If… if you wanted to—"

She stops short when he puts his hands on her shoulders and turns her so that she's looking at the sunset again. His arms wrap around her from behind.

And there, in one of his hands, are the sunglasses that he'd worn all day.

She stares at it. If she turns around now, she'll finally see his green, green eyes—

"Our first sunset, Princess," comes his voice at her temple. "You're kind of missing it…"

She tears her gaze away from his glasses and looks out at their city in front of them. She leans her head on his shoulder. His arms tighten around her.

She threads her hands in his.

For now, this is enough.


End file.
